Umbras ? Harry Potter

December 16, 1994 • Hogwarts

The final week of term grew louder with each passing day. Gossip about the Yule Ball clung to every corridor—some believable, most completely ridiculous. One rumour claimed Dumbledore had ordered eight hundred barrels of mulled mead from Madam Rosmerta. Another said students would be given dancing lessons by actual Veela. That one, thankfully, didn't stick.

Ciara found it all oddly thrilling. This would be her first Christmas spent at Hogwarts, and the castle felt like it had been dipped in magic twice over. Even the more far-fetched rumours made her smile.

What was true, apparently, was that the Weird Sisters were set to perform. They were well known across the Wizarding Wireless Network, but neither Harry nor Hermione ever listened to it, and Ciara and Ron only knew them in passing—hardly their taste.

Ciara didn't listen to much music. If anything, she preferred an instrumental background while she read, something easy to tune out.

Some professors had clearly given up trying to fight the distraction. Flitwick spent Wednesday's class letting students play spell-based games, though he did try to challenge Ciara by charming her silent for the lesson and having her cast without speaking. She didn't do half bad.

Others weren't quite as festive. Professor Binns droned on, entirely unfazed by the looming holidays. If dying hadn't stopped him from teaching, a bit of tinsel certainly wouldn't. He somehow managed to turn goblin rebellions—violent and brutal in theory—into something that could rival a sleeping draught.

McGonagall kept up her usual brisk pace, as if sheer willpower could beat Christmas into submission. Moody had them practicing defensive spells until the very end of the hour. And Snape, naturally, gave them a glower and a promise: they'd be tested on poison antidotes during their final lesson. The look he gave Harry suggested he was hoping someone got it wrong before turning on his heal letting his robe trail behind him.

"Evil, he is," Ron said bitterly that night after dinner. "Springing a test on us on the last day. Ruining the last bit of term."

"Mmm... you're not exactly straining yourself, though, are you?" said Hermione, looking at him over the top of her and Ciara's Potions notes. Ron and Harry was busy building a card castle out of Ron's Exploding Snap pack — a much more interesting pastime than with Muggle cards, because of the chance that the whole thing would blow up at any second.

"It's Christmas, Hermione," said Harry lazily.

Hermione looked severely over at him too. "I'd have thought you'd be doing something constructive, Harry, even if you don't want to learn your antidotes!"

"Like what?" Harry said as he watched Ron stack another card a top of the pyramid.

"That egg!" Hermione hissed.

"Come on, Hermione, I've got till February the twenty-fourth," Harry said.

He had put the golden egg upstairs in his trunk and hadn't opened it since the celebration party after the first task. There were still two and a half months to go until he needed to know what all the screechy wailing meant, after all.

"But it might take weeks to work it out!" said Hermione. "You're going to look a real idiot if everyone else knows what the next task is and you don't!"

Ciara agreed with Hermione but didn't say anything aloud. From what she'd read about past tournaments, some clues were tied to moon cycles or involved brewing complex potions over several weeks. Getting a head start wouldn't hurt. But she held her tongue. Jumping in felt like overstepping—especially with how long the three of them had known each other. She didn't want to sound smug or like she was intruding.